When I'm Breathing
by Simone Robinson
Summary: Alone and badly injured in the jungle, Leo must battle through the demons and illness in his body and his heart. Far away from the help he needs, critically wounded, stripped of his pride, will and fight, he must find what is real, what is hope, and what is a fevered hallucination born from a broken heart. Will he survive? Can Raph get to him in time? Will he ever be the same?


**AN: It has been a long while since I have posted anything, but I promised someone who is so very, very dear to me, that I would write again. Hope this does not cause them pain or fear. Dedicated to the one I love most. **

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**When I'm Breathing**

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**Chapter One**

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His heart kept on, its steady rhythm reminding him that, for now, he was still alive. He could feel the pulse at his neck, feel the blood beneath his skin. His worn, thin skin. The veins wove between the tenseness of his muscles, and, for a moment, he wondered how he had not already squeezed his arteries and left himself dead.

That probably wasn't even physically possible. He didn't know.

Then again, he had never been one for the art of medicine. He had never been much of a medic.

He regretted it now, as his hands bit into the bark. He regretted it, as each pounding of his heart spilt more of his spirit onto the ground, through his fingertips, leaving them sticky, wet and slick.

His breath hitched, and his fingertips bit harder into the bark, pieces breaking off and denting his skin. He didn't notice. He didn't care. His head swam as he willed his feet to move.

_Just one more step. Just another step, just a little more. Just a little more. Just do it, Leonardo!_

He could feel his chest seize up as his foot planted into fresh dirt, sticking firm to the mossy ground, held firm by his staggering weight, crying out in protest at the pressure Leo put on it.

He let out a breathless groan, cursing his weakness as he stumbled, one knee hitting the floor of the Central American jungle. The sweat on Leo's skin stuck to the earth's debris, his cloak slipping from his shoulder as he heaved for breath, one hand gripping the ground, pawing at it, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, as each short, heaving breath stole the air from his lungs.

Each breath a reminder of Leo's mistake, his failure, the terrible slip that was costing him his life. His weakness pounded into his head, drilled into him, slammed into him in livid waves of brutal force.

Gods, he felt so sick. Leo's stomach churned, his head spun, his chest ached from breathes forced through reluctant windpipes.

His bandanna stuck to his neck in hot, itchy patches as his head bowed low. Panic began too flood his calm in potent waves, a raw, primal panic, locked deep in his heart as he scrabbled for breath.

Not a soul to gather him up and keep him going. Not a soul to stop the bleeding, to bandage the hurt, to soothe the raging fever. Not a soul in the country to pick him up from the ground and shield him from the world. So far away. So very far away.

Leo could smell the sick and sweat burned into the scent of the jungle, the humid, earthy scent that had long seeped into his skin, dirt and spice. He could feel the earth tilt beneath him as his eyes searched wildly for light, for hope, rimmed red and raw.

His sight began to dim, as the panic began to fade and give way to perfect darkness, as his hands and knees shook and gave way. It was as he slumped to the dirt, that he gathered the strength to reach out a hand, praying for salvation, praying for some miracle, just praying.

_Raph…._

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_It was starting to hurt bad. Far too bad._

That was the first thought Leonardo had as his clouded mind fought the fog that held him asleep.

"Leo? Come on, ya gotta wakes up."

His body twitched and Leo'd mind started at the voice, hazy mind reaching out instinctively, arms, feverish and slick, reached out, but fell back, leaden on the earth. He fought with desperation, clawing his way, convinced that when he opened his eyes, Raph, the one he so needed, would be there, just like he always said he would be, just like he always promised.

All logic and cold control had fled his find, and in place settled the longing and pain. His defences stripped, a soft sound of effort left his throat, and hope flooded his chest. If he could just open his eyes, Raph would be there. If he could just struggle a little more alone, he'd be swept back into the strong arms and reassuring voice, he'd be taken to safety.

He wouldn't be alone anymore.

"Dat's it, Leo, eh? Come on..."

The words of encouragement fuelled him on, made his heart ache with hope, swollen hands clutching at the dirt, full of a clumsiness that was not his own.

_Raph said he was there, Raph said he'd be there_. _Just have to open your eyes, Leo, just have to open your eyes, come on, try harder!_

It was as if a rope had wrapped itself around his chest, a rope of pain and emotion and terrible, bitter struggle.

_Please be here, Gods, please be here._ The plea, so unusual for the leader, bubbled up in his chest with impossible force. It had already been too long. Far too long away. He could already feel himself crumbling.

His hands tingled with the need to grab, to grasp, to hold. His feet kicked weakly at the dirt in some vain effort to stay awake, to stay alive, to go back to his loved one's arms, to the comforting presence that he had grown so used to, that he had grown to need with all his heart and soul and every fibre of his body. No matter how much Leonardo always denied it, always acted otherwise. Now, at his lowest, defences stripped to nothing but a memory, he clung to Raph like a lifeline.

Chest heaving, choking for a single, pitiful breath, he finally forced his eyes open. The onyx was dimmed a washed-out grey, glassy and rimmed with red, but they searched with a frantic need, they searched for a face, for a figure, their flame alive again with nothing but hope.

Hope that he was no longer alone.

There was green all around him. All around him. Every shade, every kind. Light green, dark green, there were flashes of colour that made his head spin and his heart leap for joy. But when his eyesight focused, and he let himself finally look, he saw the very thing he didn't want to see.

He rolled over and retched into the dirt, infection raging through every part of him.

He was alone in the jungle.

_The fever had left him with false-hope, with a heart crushed again, and no one to hold._

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**Will be a chaptered fic, hopefully.**


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